


picture me (just like this)

by iridescenceoflove



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, LadyNoir - Freeform, Ladynoir July, Marichat, Marichat May, premature, scrapbooking, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iridescenceoflove/pseuds/iridescenceoflove
Summary: When Chat Noir asked Marinette for help with a gift for Ladybug, she didn't think it meant getting an impromptu peek into his camera roll.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 104
Kudos: 496





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LNC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LNC/gifts).



> I hang around this fandom like a moth to flame, yet I still haven’t contributed anything...so I guess I decided it was time to rectify that. Although full disclosure, this isn’t the fic I had planned on being the first ML content from my account, but it’s still content nonetheless. And really, it’s LNC's [fault](https://lnc2.tumblr.com/post/611248441152110592/the-marichat-i-want-to-see-is-chat-noir-waxing) anyways, because her ideas always make me itchy to write.

Marinette groaned as she fell backwards onto the heaven that was her bed at the moment.

Why again, had she accepted two more commissions?

Clearly, it was because her load of collecting homework on her desk, unfinished projects littered across her sewing table, weekly bakery duties, and saving Paris did not meet the quota for the Multitasker of the Year award.

She flexed her stiff fingers while contemplating the merits of snoozing in the attempt of making up the loss of sleep that a nighttime akuma had graciously attributed to, or swallowing down the last dredges of her procrastination and tackling the history paper that awaited her proof-reading beside her computer. But while a nap never sounded unappealing, she had a feeling that once she entered a state of unconsciousness, it would be a struggle to get her energy up and rolling afterwards.

Glancing down at the offensive task on her desk, she made a face. "Who even needs to know about Charlemagne, am I right, Ti— _ahhhh_!"

Her skylight that had previously held the view of the _sky_ a mere four seconds ago, was suddenly blessed with the visage of blonde hair, green eyes, and a toothy grin.

She immediately shot up, placing a hand over her racing heart. She opened the hatch with a scowl. " _Chat Noir_ ," she hissed. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

He at least had the manners to look sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd be in bed this early."

"I'm not. I was taking a break from some work," she explained.

"Oh, am I interrupting you? I can come back another—"

She waved the rest of his sentence away as she dropped back down. "No, it's fine. I've really got nothing pressing for the night." Her paper wouldn't hurt to sit there for another day. "Plus, you clearly came for a reason."

"That makes me sound fickle," he pouted. "What if I just want to bask in the lovely company of my favorite civilian friend?"

She raised a brow. "You mean scare the living daylights out of your favorite civilian friend."

"Well, it's not like I planned on my state of attractiveness to spook you so badly."

"What spooks me is your ability to shamelessly insert a compliment during any conversation."

"Regardless," he plowed on, "I don't need a reason to visit."

She scooted towards the stairs. "Mhmm. So do tell, what is this reason you don't need?"

"Okay, but just to be clear—I enjoy your company. And you are my favorite civilian."

If her back weren't facing him, he would've seen a smile. "If you insist."

He gently plopped down onto her bed, cross-legged. "So, I know you're a creative person," he began, "and I have this idea for a gift I want to make."

"A gift?"

"Yeah, for Ladybug, actually."

Marinette had to grip onto the railing to catch herself from tumbling down the remaining steps.

"Hey, you changed your pictures around," Chat commented behind her, oblivious to her near faceplant.

"Huh?" she asked, momentarily distracted. She peered over her shoulder to see him pointing at her picture board. "Thought it was time for change," she breezily answered. "So a gift for Ladybug? What's the special occasion?"

Because she wasn't aware of any special occasion—definitely not one that warranted a gift exchange. And if there was, it was most certainly her duty as Ladybug to inquire, regardless of spoilers. She could feel guilty later.

"Oh, nothing really. I just..she's sort of seemed down lately, and I thought I'd do something to cheer her up."

He'd noticed? "Really?" She didn't realize she'd been so obvious.

He nodded, making himself comfortable on her chaise. "It's not anything that's affected her fighting if you're worried," he quickly assured. "But...I don't know. I know she thinks I don't notice, but it's in the little things, y'know? Like the way she responds to a joke sometimes, or watches people. Things have changed since Miracle Queen and all that, and it's a lot," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this."

Marinette could only stare at him. "That's...that's understandable."

"Anyways," he continued, "my idea was a collage of photos...like—a scrapbook? I think that's what Pinterest said."

She smiled to herself, imagining Chat scrolling through mood boards and pins for ideas. "Yeah, a scrapbook."

He nodded. "And honestly, I'm not really familiar or good with this kind of stuff, and I know you're really talented and artsy." He gave a shy grin. "So I was hoping you'd help a cat out?"

Well, how could she say no when he was looking at her like that? Even if it was her own present. "I'd love to."

"Awesome!"

She couldn't help but return his smile at the familiar enthusiasm. "Do you have a general idea about what photos you want?"

"Oh, yeah, I saved some in a folder on here!" He tapped his baton proudly.

"Great. I can download a few and print them to show you how to do the basics," she offered.

"Only if you don't mind. I don't want to take up all of your time. I can come back later, I just wanted your opinion."

"It's no problem, Chat," she assured. "Of course, if you don't have something else planned…?"

He quickly shook his head, folding his legs beneath him. "No, I'm free for the rest of the evening."

"Perfect. I'll go grab some snacks and we can get started."

Once a plate of leftover assortments from the bakery had been procured, she uploaded the file from his baton to her computer.

"So," she drawled, pivoting in her desk chair to face him, "what made you choose a scrapbook?" Because she already knew what her gift was; what was the harm in knowing the reason for it?

He swallowed his bite of éclair before answering: "I don't know...I guess I just want to give her something that could remind her of some of the happier times. That even when Hawkmoth is being a rampaging jerk, we can still have some fun." He chuckled nervously as his hand went to the back of his neck in what she was realizing was a familiar tick of his. "This sounds cheesy, doesn't it?" 

"I—no, not at all," she whispered, then cleared her throat. "It's a very sweet thing to do, Chat. She'll love it."

He relaxed. "I'm glad you think so," he beamed. 

She busied herself with the printing photos to preoccupy herself. She didn't know what was wrong with her tonight. This was Chat Noir of all people, her _partner_ , who praised her all the time as if it were second nature, who'd already shown her how sweet and sincere his compliments could truly be. And this was exactly that. There was no reason to feel any differently about it.

As she gathered the photos, she recognized some of the moments from when they'd been taken; one was when they had gotten ice cream. He had gotten some on his nose, and she had laughed at his attempts to lick it off. Another was her holding a little girl from when they had surprised some kids at the park. Another was when she was with her umbrella in the rain. So far, most of the photos he'd picked were ones she had no clue he had taken—candids he had somehow imprinted behind the lens during everyday moments of their lives.

"These are nice," was all she could say.

"Mmm," he hummed, "they're some of my favorite moments with her."

"Really?" she said, gaze lingering on the freshest photo from the printer. It was a selfie of Chat and her in front of their statues in the park, making faces.

"Yeah. Most of the photos I picked are of my favorites moments."

"Can you tell me about some of them?" she found herself asking, without any filter or thinking.

And she couldn't find it in her to take it back as he grinned dopily. "Well, that one," he gestured to the selfie photo in her hands, "is one of my favorites just because we were being stupid together."

She chuckled, looking at the Chat with crossed-eyes and Ladybug with her tongue sticking out. "Who knew Paris' superhero duo could be so ridiculous."

He winked. "Utterly ridiculous."

She rolled her eyes.

"That one—we had gotten ice cream that day, from André, of course, and LB suggested we have a race for fun," he explained, already deep into his delineation of the event. "I of course had to agree! So we started, but I guess I ended up getting some on my face because Ladybug just started laughing. Like, full-blown laughing. I don't know if you've ever gotten the pleasure to hear her truly laugh, but when she does, it's one of the best things in the world, Marinette. It's one of my favorite sounds."

Marinette, who had begun to feel the tell-tale burn in her face in the midst of his explanation, turned away with the pretense of needing to search for something on her desk. Instead, she caught a glimpse of her reflection, red-faced and mouth-parted. Her eyes widened.

 _No, no, nonononono, stop that!_ She slapped her cheeks.

She discreetly cleared her throat, straightening in her chair. "Well, guess I'll have to listen out for it next time."

"That one," he began on the next one, "was when we had surprised some kids in the park. This one little girl—she was just...in awe of Ladybug. She looked like she worshiped the ground she walked on. Who wouldn't?" he quipped. "But she said how she wished she could be cooler, more like Ladybug, but Ladybug told her that she didn't need to be. Told her she was brave and special all on her own, a superhero in her own right, living in a world with villains like Hawkmoth. That it was people like her that made it worth it for people like Ladybug to do their job. The little girl looked so amazed and happy, I'm pretty sure LB made her entire world that day," he chuckled. "I love that moment because it shows how humble the girl under the mask is, how she'd take the time to tell a kid how special she is. To me, it's another thing that makes her special too."

And here, Marinette realized the colossal mistake she had made.

Because while she could handle Chat Noir gushing about her to her face with a swaggering smile and a cheesy pun to the moonlight, she couldn't handle him sitting in her room, talking about his favorite moments with her, with a look on his face that could only be described as lovesick. She was nearly combusting inside.

 _Why, why why why why is this working?_ she internally cried.

 _Because_ , the other voice that always sounded like Tikki whenever it came to her having an existential crisis, _he's so obviously sincere and in love, and he doesn't even know he's talking to you!_

She pinched her elbow.

Thankfully—or not, from the mindset of her psyche and carnal desires that were coming to the surface—he continued on without waiting for her response. "The umbrella one was actually taken right before Alya caught us for that rainy patrol photo she'd posted. It'd started to rain, and Ladybug looked so delighted. Almost...nostalgic, I guess. But, she said she loved the rain, and when I'd asked her why, she told me the story. And—and she just looked so happy, so carefree, standing under her umbrella in the rain with a smile that could turn any cloud in the sky away as she explained. I couldn't help but take a photo, because I knew then that as long as I know her, I'd always try to get her to look like that. Happy."

Marinette was pretty sure if she weren't gripping the edge of her chair, she'd tackle him straight off the chaise and do something that probably involved lips and impulsive decisions.

_Preserve some dignity and self-control!_

"Um, Marinette? Is that a part of the scrapbooking process?"

She looked down. _Because shoving the photo in your mouth screams dignified, you moron_. "Just! Checking! To see the size, you know, of the photo. This photo. One mouth too big, too small, you get the idea."

Fortunately—and weirdly enough—Chat didn't even question it. "We probably should get started. I didn't mean to get carried away. Still after all this time, I can't control myself when I start talking about her." His smile was self-deprecating.

"You really love her, don't you?" she murmured, briefly forgetting his enhanced hearing.

"Always," was his automatic response.

Gah, her heart for the night was fried.

Thankfully, the rest of their time spent together went along nicely once Marinette got a grip on her precarious urges and restraint. She had Chat show her some of his favorite Pinterest inspirations, then showed him how best to apply the photos without getting crinkles, gave him some of her paper recommendations, and where to buy the best added decals if he wanted. Even though she knew what it was, she still wanted to be surprised with the finished product, so she gave several suggestions and options for everything so he could have a wide variety to pick and choose to his liking.

"Thank you so much again for your help, Marinette. You're the best."

"It was my pleasure, Chat Noir." Even if he had nearly made her burst into flames.

"I really hope she likes it."

"I promise you she will."

He smiled. "Well, I'll be sure you get proper credit," he winked and pecked her on the cheek, light and soft as a caress from the wind. "See you around, Marinette."

"Tou yoo," she said. Her eyes bulged. "You _too_ , I mean!"

And with a lasting laugh, he went through the skylight and bounded into the night.

Once again, she found herself groaning and falling back onto her bed.

"So," Tikki began, floating to sit down on her stomach. "Chat Noir?"

She could only whine pathetically into her body pillow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat Noir presents his gift for Ladybug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, it's already been a month since I published this. I'd told myself the second chapter would be ready within two weeks, but clearly, ~~I put off editing~~ time got away from me. I love how all my intentions to keep my posts exact and precise have gone out the window and we're just winging it now. Such is life I guess. 🥴🤧

She didn't forget about the photos.

(Or what they meant to him.)

Chat Noir on his part hadn't uttered a single word about the project or any plans for a gift exchange to Ladybug—unlike his usual M.O. of telling her anything and everything under the sun that didn't possibly have to do with identities—so she easily deduced that it was indeed supposed to be a top-secret surprise for herself. Of course, that wasn't exactly a possibility at this point. (Not that Chat had to know such.)

He did, however, try and show _Marinette_ the finished product, and whilst it was _extremely_ tempting to agree, she'd forced herself to impose some sense of curtailment on her eagerness in the end. So instead, she'd insisted on waiting until Ladybug saw it, as it would be more special and intimate for her to be the first one to see it before anyone else. She'd figured she already technically ruined her own surprise, so the least she could do was wait and keep as much suspense as she could—even if there was a desperate desire to just sneak a _little_ peek.

(But he'd sounded so giddy over the phone about it; so she could be patient for him.)

That didn't mean she arrived to patrols without bated breath and searching eyes. According to Tikki, her patience sucked.

Eventually, he showed up one evening with the precious little cargo tucked underneath one arm, and she had to contain the urge to squeal and make grabby-hands.

"What's that?" she blurted as his boots touched the rooftop.

According to Tikki, her acting skills sucked too.

Chat made a show of glancing down confusedly. "You mean this?" He gave it a little shake.

"Yeah, is it a gift?"

Tikki may have been somewhat right.

Chat didn't seem to notice though. "Maybe. Maybe not," he wheedled, rocking on his heels.

"Well, it sure looks like a gift to me," she huffed, impatiently crossing her arms.

"Somebody is the curious cat tonight."

"And unlike you, I deserve my satisfaction," she sniffed primly.

"And someone's not going to deserve her gift instead," he taunted.

"Told you!" she grinned, putting forth her hands expectantly.

"You did not!" he retorted, yanking back the present against his chest. "You were just being nosy."

"Was not."

"Were too."

"I don't see how I was being nosy when it's my present."

"But you didn't know that at first."

She scowled. "I had a feeling."

"How?" he pouted.

"Uhh," she stammered. "Well, who else would you be carrying a gift for?"

"Ah ah ah, I think," Chat declared, hiding the present from her line of sight behind his back, "you just don't want to admit you like my presents. And didn't want this to be for anybody else."

"Pffft," she scoffed, waving a hand, "sure, the diamond earrings and Chanel bag were _some_ nice momentos, but they're a little flashy."

And extremely expensive. And the nicest things she owned that had to stay tucked away in her closet because he refused any of her vetoes, and she couldn't be seen with them without raised eyebrows and questions; but she did admire them from time to time. They were sweet gifts nonetheless.

"Alas, she has specific taste," Chat said, inching the gift back out into view.

Her eyes automatically followed the movement of it. "Please," she blinked very kindly up at him.

He sighed. "Who am I to resist the wiles of my Lady." He dropped the gift into her hands with a flourish.

She grinned triumphantly, appraising the book-shaped object covered in her favorite shade of pink and black polka dotted wrapping paper, topped off with a cute little white bow in the middle.

"I will warn you," Chat informed, astoundingly shy all of the sudden, "it's no diamonds or Versace; in fact, I sort of made it, so it's definitely nothing amazing—"

"Don't be silly—I bet it's one of your best gifts yet," she winked, slipping a finger under one of the folds on the backside.

She was pretty sure it could look like a three-year old did it and she would love it still.

Encased in the wrapping was a simple black leather book with the title _Adventures of LB and CN_ and a yin and yang symbol in the corner.

"Uh, I actually was able to commission Nathaniel to do a little edit of the yin and yang symbol to fit our themes...since, you know, we're like yin and yang?"

She nodded, smiling as she softly grazed a finger over the area.

Flipping open the book, there was the dedication on the first page:

_For My Lady, My Partner, My Best Friend_

She was certain her cheeks couldn't stretch any further.

The first few photos were definitely from the beginning of their partnership. Like their first fist bump, first pose for the press, and one of their first selfies even—they all were lined against the pages, showcasing the novelty and surrealness that encompassed the first couple of weeks. She shook her head in amazement. Even as it felt so long ago, it was as if it were just yesterday she opened that little box of change and responsibility.

It was clear as she continued that Chat had arranged them in a linear-timeline, as the photos became newer and more comfortable. The photos he had first shown her that night in her room were peppered amongst others she noted, and there were quite a few more photos in between. If she were more courageous and self-disciplined, she would ask him to tell her what they meant to him again. And if she were honest enough with herself, she really wanted him to answer the same way he had that night, just so she could see that sparkle in his eye again—honest, hopeful, yearning, all in a way that made her feel warm and funny inside. He'd talk all night if she'd ask, and she would sit beside him and listen just because she could.

By the time she was about halfway through, more photos including other members of the team started popping up. Viperion and Pegasus posing ridiculously back-to-back, Carapace atop Chat's shoulders, Rena pranking Kim with an illusion, there was even a picture of Queen Bee cracking a reluctant grin and peace sign—they all were moments that somehow got captured. Some of the group photos had little descriptions underneath or beside the photos, like, "Goofing around with our buddies—the gargoyles," or "Ice cream and hang with the gang." Some were left by themselves, with little decals matching their respective kwami-animal theme sprinkled throughout.

"I actually got some of these photos from them," Chat said as she landed on a selfie of Viperion and Ryuko. "I mentioned to Rena what I was doing, so she offered to have herself and the others send some photos as a contribution."

If anything, the thought of her team each pitching in some of their own photos was even more touching, and her cheeks were already aching from all the smiling she was doing.

"That was nice of them."

It truly surprised her—the amount of pictures that had been taken and printed so she could relive them all, each photo recalling each moment with clarity and affection.

But to finish it off, at the very end was a photo of her and Chat sitting on a rooftop, her head on his shoulder and their backs to the camera as the sun set; two figures against the fevered oranges and yellows of the sky, side by side. Underneath read—

_Ladybug,_

_No matter what happens, I hope you can look back upon this with fond memories and remember some of the best times. Because my best times are when I'm with you. So here's to all the memories—even good and bad—and many more that will stand the end of time, just like us. You and me, against the world._

_Your Partner, Chat Noir_

By the time she got to the ending line, it was becoming too blurry. She swiped a knuckle under her eye, not wanting to risk a single teardrop lest it mar the precious page.

"Oh my god, you're crying! I messed up, didn't I— I'm sorry, this—"

She effectively cut off his rambling worries as she threw her arms around him, hugging him fiercely. "You didn't mess up a thing. I love this."

"You do?"

She fervently nodded her head against his shoulder as she laughed, the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck tickling her cheek. "I do. This is _amazing_."

"On par with Versace?"

"Better," she corrected, running a hand over the front cover reverently. "This is the best gift ever, Chat." She already knew its rightful place where it belonged; nestled in between the two dried roses in the box tucked in the secret corner of her closet.

He grinned, looking simultaneously shy and pleased as he stood before her. "Well, I thought you could use something that'd bring a smile to your face."

_'And—and she just looked so happy, so carefree, standing under her umbrella in the rain with a smile that could turn any cloud in the sky away as she explained. I couldn't help but take a photo, because I knew then that as long as I know her, I'd always try to get her to look like that. Happy.'_

"You make me happy."

The words slipped past her lips, unbidden, honest, and completely unchecked; but she wouldn't take back the words for anything.

"I do?" he blinked, voice colored with surprise and wonder, as if any foresight to insert the usual flair of charismatic self-assuredness into his tone disappeared.

And maybe, that was why it only felt right to be honest: "Of course! I—I may not say it often enough...but you're my partner. My best friend. You've always made me happy."

Because when he'd noticed she was feeling down, he'd taken the time and effort to make something special for her, just to try and cheer her up. And sometimes, she really wondered why she drew that line for herself, and when it had become so blurred. Especially when he looked at her like that as she held what she knew was going to be one of her most treasured possessions for the rest of her life.

It turned out she didn't have to ask again. "It goes both ways, My Lady; you make me the happiest Chat around." It was said with earnest veracity—the same veracity he'd wielded when talking about her on her chaise that night—eyes sparkling and honest, his smile hopeful and yearning. A photo wasn't necessary when her brain already committed that look to her memory.

She stepped forward. "Well," she said, before stretching onto tiptoes so her lips could meet the smooth curve of his right cheek. "Thank you again, Chat Noir. I'll cherish this forever." She pulled back, the tips of their noses barely grazing— "And the book."

Smiling, she launched off the rooftop, a blushing open-mouthed Chat Noir in her wake. As she landed on the facing building, she slid her yo-yo open and pressed the camera icon, giggling as the yo-yo audibly clicked.

This was definitely a memory for the books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How could I not end with Ladynoir. Seriously. 
> 
> [Tumblr](https://iridescenceoflove.tumblr.com/).


End file.
